Sep. 13th, 2004

raybear: (the moon)
Hunger made me climb out of bed. Procrastination inpsired me to make biscuits rather than just eat a bowl of cold cereal. That, and my recent fascination with jams and jellies. I didn't make these biscuits from scratch, just from the Jiffy baking mix and some milk.

Today I'm spending all day revising and working on a short story, trying not to get distracted by reading Mark Salzman's True Notebooks. Though it's such a quick read, I'm also tempted to just hurry and finish it so it can no longer provide a temptation.

It's true, I have been busy, with less time to float around online and wax philosophically about pop culture and life in general. And I've been writing other things, so sometimes I feel my words get used up before I can use them on myself. But I think I've also been avoiding journaling for a bit. Mostly because I've been feeling pretty introverted and solitary. Also, I feel my subconscious is on the verge of something. Of what, I'm not sure. And I don't want to extrapolate before it's time. Though I suspect it's something as simple as digesting and transforming all the change I've been going through and will continue happening in the next few months.

This weekend I was having lots of sporadic body issues, and I feel the impatience and anxiety of wanting my chest surgery is reaching an intense crescendo, but then I stopped myself and realized in two months I'll be in San Francisco, and three months previous I was in Los Angeles and time is not only relative, it can be held in check. In other words, I turn my brain into an ally, using my own processes to curb myself. To tell myself, 'chill. soon you'll blink and the days will be gone.'

And sometimes time slows down in an absolutely perfect way, like last night in bed with the chimes of Arvo Part and the taste of bodies and skin.

I'm not really the "change is bad" person I might think I am (or that my astrological profile would indicate). It's more that if I stop and think too much about lots of change, I worry, can I keep up?

So the key is to not stop. Just go. And the fastest way to become the person you want is to be it now.

Um, hi, I'm going to go eat my biscuits and skip watching Oprah since I'm already sounding like her.
raybear: (cranky)
It's not so much writer's block -- it's more like writer's crawl. I sit and read and stare and sit and read and then I go through and make all the tiny changes, the typos, the misplaced commas. Then I sit and stare and tap my fingers on the veneer and sit and read and stare and then....I write one sentence. then I get up and go to the bathroom or get more water or get a cookie. Then i come back and sit and stare and type, type, type. After two minutes I stop. Then it all starts again.

The work is getting done, just at a glacial pace.

I got chinese takeout for lunch, just like characters in a scene from my story do*. My fortune said " you have a deep understanding of other people's needs and feelings." Um, thanks, but I want to know about my future. Sometimes having deep understandings aren't all they're cracked up to be. I think I'm going to give myself a tarot reading instead.

*Don't worry, there's no scene involving fortune cookies in my fiction. Things aren't going THAT slow that I need to resort to such devices.

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